


Diversion Game

by RedTeamShark



Series: Los Santos is No Place for the Innocent [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Ableist Language, Discussed Murder, Discussed Prison Rape, Discussed Torture, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes down to the real end of the story, I’m a diversion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diversion Game

When it comes down to the real end of the story, I’m a diversion.

A key witness against one of Geoff’s people shows up dead, it looks suspicious.

A bus full of innocent people that the key witness happened to be riding blows up, they blame whatever minority group happens to be pissed off.

Some jurors on a trial go missing and get their thumbs mailed to the police and their pinkies mailed to their families, it’s an attempt to scare a favorable verdict.

Twenty-odd people get the same treatment and three of them happen to be jurors, it’s some crazy serial killer.

I get hauled in on an unpaid speeding ticket the one day a year Michael Jones takes off work to be with his girlfriend, it’s just bad luck.

At least, that’s what I have to keep repeating as I sit in the brightly-lit interrogation room, wondering just how much blood they’ll be able to pin to my hands. The car is clean of the literal blood, of course, Geoff makes sure I’m never kept in dirty conditions, but there’s still a few too many unregistered guns to explain away, not to mention all the illegal explosives. And if they get a warrant for my apartment, well… That’s a whole can of worms that I’m sitting here making sure doesn’t get opened.

Directed sociopath is what a headcase shrink would probably call me. Someone who would slaughter with wanton joy and enough brains to mostly not get caught. Someone who found a person willing to give them targets and enough free reign to stay entertained.

I call it professionalism. You don’t fuck around with the power structure, in my experience, if you want to keep on your feet. You find your place in it and make the most of it.

Geoff is _really_ good at letting me make the most of it.

Two years in jail for illegal weapons and unpaid traffic violations isn’t that much, compared to what it could be.

–

In Los Santos, a lot happens in two years. So on the day I got my walking papers from the prison and stepped into unbarred sunshine, I didn’t know what to expect.

I didn’t expect to see Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey in person, leaning against a parked car with his arms crossed and something familiar dangling from his fingertips. But when he tosses it to me I catch it without a second thought, grinning as I look it over.

“Sentimental much, boss?” I ask him, opening the trunk of the car and dropping my suitcase in, setting the black skull mask on top of it.

“I’m winning favors with you before I completely piss you off and get a knife in the brain.” Geoff grins, getting behind the wheel and nodding to the seat next to him. “Next up is feeding you something besides shitty prison food.”

I settle into the passenger seat, closing my eyes and sighing. “So, why am I knifing you in the brain?”

“Well, for one, I sold your apartment. For another, I signed you up as my plus-one to all of Michael’s upcoming life events—and there are a lot. And finally, I let you spend two years locked up, I think that in your books, that balances with a knife in the skull.”

“You sold my apartment?” I stare at him, frowning already. “What the fuck for?”

“New recruits, they needed a place to stay. Don’t worry, I got you set up with somewhere else.” He doesn’t flinch, still the same old Geoff. At least there’s that.

“Uh-huh… So why am I suddenly your life partner for stuff? What happened to Jack?”

“He got a new life partner. She’s nice.” He grins, shrugging. “So I let him retire for the most part. He’s still part of the family, but.”

I nod, looking out the window as we drive further into the city. A lot _has_ changed in two years. “What sort of life events are we talking? I don’t think I’ll be welcome at his promotion ceremonies.”

“Wedding stuff. You remember that redhead DA, Tuggey? They’re getting married.”

“She know the truth about him?”

“Not a word of it.”

“You live a fun life, boss.” I’m smiling, though, the grin stretching wider as we pull up to a fast food joint. “Fuck, man, get me one of everything.”

Geoff orders and hands me the bag of food, taking off through the city. We’re both silent and eventually he reaches the beach, pulling up in a parking spot outside of my apartment—my old apartment, apparently.

Sitting on the trunk of the car and eating lunch, I let him fill me in on what’s been happening with the world since I went inside. I listen as he explains alliances and territories, ongoing jobs and future plans. I nod, crumpling my trash and tossing it towards the bin, hopping off the car.

“Well, so far it seems good. But there’s one last thing… You think I’m going to knife you in the skull for letting me go inside for two years?” I hold up a hand before he can answer, grinning. “First off, if I tried, you have six—no, wait, seven, there’s some guy up in my old apartment with a sniper rifle—people ready to shoot me. And besides.” I lean forward on the car, closer to him than just about anybody is allowed to get, my voice low. “Two years is just long enough for me to think about it. If they didn’t get me for the guns, they would have gone after more information. They wanted me locked up, they were going to get me locked up. Two years and unregistered guns is a small price compared to life for conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism, which everything in my apartment pointed to. Michael wasn’t working, so there was no whistle-blower to give you time to clean it out before they had a warrant. Two years gave me the time to completely understand why I was there.” I stand up again, shrugging. “If some big guy made me his prison bitch, maybe I’d be a little bitter. But the only person who even tried is a vegetable handcuffed to a hospital bed after I shoved a screwdriver in his ear. So I’m not upset. In my books, which you should know better than to try to read, we’re balanced, boss.”

He smiles, nodding and waving a hand dismissively. “Well, it’s good to know where you stand. You’re a lot of things, Ryan, but you’re not a liar.”

“Not a chance. Now, where am I living since you so politely sold my apartment to, from what I can tell, a couple of twinks?”

And like that, I’m back in the game.

It’s such a fun game, too.


End file.
